


Striking

by Resoan



Series: Drabbles, Requests, and Memes [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:32:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3397133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resoan/pseuds/Resoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something about Abelas that draws the Inquisitor's attention, though she's not quite sure what...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Striking

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt, "A Kiss on the Nose."

There was something… _striking_  about Abelas that drew the eyes, though the Inquisitor was hard-pressed to say  _what_. Varric japed that it was his ‘winning smile’ before bursting out into a full-bellied laughter, one in which Sera and Iron Bull joined him heartily; Lavellan promptly glared and the trio’s laughter tapered off a few seconds later.

Mercifully, whenever she caught herself staring in the ancient’s direction, another companion or advisor would approach shortly afterwards and direct her attention away before Abelas could notice. 

Maybe…maybe it was his eyes. They were frequently cold and narrowed, a golden yellow that lacked a warmth Lavellan might have assumed they would possess had she not met Abelas before; perhaps they’d been warm once, before Mythal’s murder, but that was not something she’d ever likely see. The thought made the Inquisitor frown, though she was not allowed long to dwell on such a thing - there were other matters to require her attention.

"You watch me." The voice startled the Inquisitor out of her reverie several hours later; it was not a question, though his tone was suspicious, piercing, even more so than his eyes. His gaze kept her firmly in place, even better than if he’d physically reached out a hand and held her wrist, and for a long moment, she could only stare at his face - had not had much opportunity to do so while being so close, and she would be remiss in missing it.

” _Oh_.” It was spoken softly, and Lavellan understood now; Abelas merely blinked at her, the harsh lines of his face softening only just, and he blinked again when she stepped closer and pressed a tiny, barely-there kiss against his nose. She fought away the flush of color that rose to her cheeks as best she could, but even then, he could see it. 

His hand darted out to her arm then, pulling her closer in a gentler gesture than Lavellan might have first assumed; “It seems no one taught those in your age to kiss properly.” It was nothing more than a whisper, a warm, suggestive murmur against the side of Lavellan’s neck, and the kiss that followed proved how very wrong Lavellan was - Abelas had a great deal of warmth to share.


End file.
